A Moment Too Late
by Sniffles 55
Summary: She was trapped in a dungeon that was worse than hell, and the only person who she wanted to save her had a bad habit of being late.. Edited and Complete


She never said she loved him out loud; she thought it would make it true if she did. But now sitting alone in this dark god forsaken hell, it seemed like a shame not to admit it.  
  
She wanted to yell it, scream at the top of her lungs that she loved him. Yell it so loud that wherever in the world he was he could hear it and know. But as her lips formed the words "I love him" she heard it come out only as a whisper. She had fought too much; she had cried too long, she didn't have the strength to yell any longer. She barely had the strength to breathe.  
  
She thought it kind of a waste, using the last of her strength to breathe. The Dark Lord was just going to kill her anyway; well, maybe let her starve to death, but still, He was going to be the cause of her destruction. She slumped down to the floor, lying on her side. She decided a long time ago that if it came down to this, she would rather give in to death herself than wait until He brought it to her. So as she let the breaths slow and let more time come in-between them, her mind fluttered back to when she and her beloved first met.  
  
---------  
  
It was on the train. That damned train. Oh, how sick it used to make her. Everyone always said how smoothly the Hogwarts Express ran, but she was always able to feel the bumps. They made her stomach flip and twist, until she thought she was going to throw up. She always hated riding that train; that was, unless she was with him.  
  
She could recall very clearly their first meeting.  
  
"Out of my way, you ugly Mudblood." She had been trying to haul her trunk into a compartment, when someone shoved her from behind and she heard a nasty voice say those words.  
  
Anger blinded her as she whirled around to face the voice's owner. "Excuse me, I do not know who think you are, but I assure you, I am neither ugly or a Mudblood. My family has been going to Hogwarts for generations. Now, if you would wipe that sneer off your face and either help me or go away, I would really appreciate it."  
  
His sneer quickly faded into a glare; obviously he wasn't used to that type of response. He stood there looking at her for a moment before helping her shove her trunk inside the compartment, then ignored her thanks as he walked away.  
  
-----  
  
A ghost of her old smile flickered across her face at this memory; she really had surprised him. He had told her later that it was the first and last time since that a fellow student had ever stood up to him like that. She was very proud of herself for that; she never was one to take insults, and she shuttered to think that if she had born his teasing, they might never have really met.  
  
She lay there thinking for a long time, sorting out all her memories of her seven years at Hogwarts. She was to graduate in a few weeks, but she knew she would never make it that far now. She thought back to her sorting, how happy her parents had been that she made it into Slytherin.  
  
From almost the second the Sorting Hat shouted Slytherin, her life took a dramatic turn. She had always suspected that her father was involved with Dark Magic, but never had it been confirmed. Within the first few weeks of school, she received letter after letter from her father explaining his wishes for her. She could recall from memory the very first such letter.  
  
---------  
  
Dear Daughter,  
  
Your mother and I congratulate you on your sorting. I have long desired to tell you a few things about me and what I expect from you, as my daughter. However, I wasn't sure you were trustworthy; that is, until now. If the Sorting Hat saw enough cunning and power to place you in Slytherin, then I feel you are to be trusted.  
  
It may come as a shock to you, but my dear, I am a member of Lord Voldemort's inner circle. I am a Death Eater. I have been since before you were born. Your mother, also, is deeply involved with the Dark Lord's doings. I trust you will follow in our footsteps. I have high hopes for you darling, you have the power to be great in this world, if you use your power wisely. Please, be on your guard; there are traitors in Slytherin who will run with this information to that blasted Headmaster the first chance they get.  
  
Also, dearest, enclosed are the names of those who are to be trusted. These people will be your friends, and will help you better understand what is expected of you, as a child of a Death Eater.  
  
Signed, Your Loving Father  
  
----  
  
She could still feel now, as tired as she was, the power and excitement that came to her after reading that letter. She cursed herself now for being a fool. It had all sounded like a fun adventure to her back then, following in her daddy's footsteps, becoming powerful beyond belief.  
  
She had gone to him that night she received the letter, she had recognized his name from the list and gone immediately to him. They talked forever that night. Their conversation had started with the Death Eaters, but soon turned to personal aspects. They stayed up all night talking in the Slytherin Common room, and from that night on they were inseparable.  
  
They did everything together; studying, ditching class; they even joined the Dark Lord together.  
  
Just the thought of the ceremony made her arm ache. She shifted slightly so she might clutch it as the memory of that night flooded her mind.  
  
-----  
  
It was the beginning of sixth year, on a dark, cold night; the kind that makes you snuggle far under your blankets, only tonight she didn't have any blankets. She was standing in the middle of a large circle of hooded figures. She knew one of them was her father, but which, she couldn't tell, not with the darkness of the night, and their hoods covering their faces.  
  
She looked all around for him, but she saw he wasn't there yet. 'Leave it to him to be late for him own Marking ceremony' she thought. He was always late for everything; he had left her waiting more times than she could count.  
  
Just then she heard leaves crackle as he finally arrived and stepped into the circle next to her. She jerked her body to attention as the figure directly in front of them moved forward toward them.  
  
It stopped not three feet away from them and threw its hood back. She had to use all her strength not to shudder; she knew instantly she was looking into the face of none other than Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord himself.  
  
The Dark Lord proceeded to ask them each questions about their loyalty to him. Their answers were mechanical, and rehearsed; they both had been going over them for months. The answers seemed to satisfy the Dark Lord, though, because soon after an appraising look at both of them he ordered their respective fathers to come forward and hold out their right arms.  
  
The pain hit her like a thousand knives. She bit her lip to keep from making a sound. She looked down and saw the horrible mark being burned into her flesh. She looked over at her love's face and could see the pride in his eyes. That's when she knew something was wrong.  
  
He looked so happy, so thrilled to be here accepting this Mark, joining the ranks of these people, and she felt only pain and torture. It hadn't hit her, until that moment, what exactly this Mark meant. She had been taught over the past years that this mark meant family and power, but she realized now that it only meant pain and death. She no longer wanted to be one of these people.  
  
--------  
  
She let go of her arm, wanting to cry, but she didn't have the energy. She knew that was the moment it all changed. After the Marking, she withdrew from everything, even giving up her place on the Quidditch team. She refused to talk to anyone other than what was necessary to keep them from asking questions. She wouldn't even talk to the one person she wanted to the most.  
  
She wanted to run to him, and explain all her fears and doubts, but she was afraid. She was scared he would scoff and yell for her not being strong like she was expected to be. She stayed this way for the rest of her sixth year.  
  
Finally at the start of this year, her seventh, she had had enough. She told him that it was over, that she wasn't in love with him any longer. It was the hardest and most painful lie she had ever told. She said she wanted someone else, but refused to give a name. She watched, tears in her eyes, as he walked away defeated and lonely.  
  
She remembered crying for days, staying in her room all day, just letting the tears fall. It was this absence from her classes that caused her to tell the Headmaster everything.  
  
-----  
  
"So, my dear, the professors tell me you have been skipping classes. I would very much appreciate it if you would enlighten me as to why one of the highest marking students in my school would suddenly lose interest in her studies." The headmaster stared at her, waiting for her response.  
  
He father would have been so disappointed in her right then. She cowered under the Headmaster's gaze and burst into tears, letting the entire story slip out. She told him everything. She started at her first letter from her father and went until the Marking ceremony, only a few months before.  
  
------  
  
She some how found the strength to groan. It was her foolish cowardice that got her where she was now, lying on the cold, hard floor that belonged to the Malfoy Manor dungeon. She never knew how exactly Lucius found out about her running to Headmaster Dumbledore, but he did, and in turn ran to the Dark Lord with this news.  
  
The Dark Lord had her kidnapped from her room in the dungeons at Hogwarts and brought here to be beaten, cursed, and thrown in this God-forsaken hell, to be killed at his connivance.  
  
She knew she had no hope of being rescued, everyone she had once considered friends were in league with the Dark Lord, and she doubted Dumbledore even knew she was missing yet.  
  
Him.  
  
There was him. But then she reminded herself that there was no chance of that. She had broken his heart and betrayed his Lord. He would probably celebrate her death.  
  
This realization was it; she could take it no more. She inhaled deeply, knowing this was her last breath she would ever take.  
  
She heard the sound of a key scraping frantically into the dungeon door keyhole and a panic stricken voice shouting "Hang on just a moment longer Jane, I'm here!! Please, God, just hang on!"  
  
Just then the door swung open and light filtered into the dark cell. Using the very last of her strength, she forced to her tired eyes to focus on the figure in the doorway. Her last conscious thought was simply this, "Well, he never was one to be on time."  
  
Severus Snape rushed over to her lifeless form lying on the cold stone floor, and took her in his arms, swearing to get revenge, and never for as long as he may live, to ever love again.  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. 


End file.
